My Bed - [Poem]

When I'm like this I can't leave my bed.
The corrugations in my do have made of metal and more not Bend
or curve I'll let me free by likely that.

Were pushing that fall i obsessed over daily.

Underneath the bar blush of cotton isn't what better.
Tropospheric farms pressed to my eyelid skin high pressure long-lasting down pause and women, clouds and dolls.

No reason just an act of god.

There are times when i leave the shelter involuntarily for income or interruption.

I choose a face away from the drawer where I keep them to protect me from the heavy clouds pushed against me

Outside my front door everyone was wants.

All of their own motives breathing the hand.

One like this I can't leave my head scratching out my thoughts and to bridges into my fleshy case anything anything anything to keep the grey tons of getting here too heavy for the cavity which holds it